


Patient Love

by Ripped_Untimely



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: (past) Hero Duke/Claudio, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:17:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ripped_Untimely/pseuds/Ripped_Untimely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the tumblr prompt: Meg and Hero find comfort in each other after the Claudio/Robbie disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patient Love

The slap is the last thing you truly hear. After that it all fades, becomes muffled, as though someone turned the volume down on the TV. Beatrice ushers you out as you realise that your breath isn’t coming, that Leo isn’t following, that people are filming. But all you can hear is that slap echoing through the room, the second one. The one that says ‘I believe him.’

You try to be angry, but you’re too drained. Beatrice seems to feel your anger for you, leaving you with only hurt. But then she comes knocking, and suddenly this is anger you can control. Anger that, even for a second, she didn’t trust you, didn’t believe you, despite all the times you’ve quietly chastened the people who would insult her.

She understands. She says that people see you as pure and her as ruined, and for the second those labels switched she wanted to embrace it. Wanted people to see her as more than corrupted, unclean. But then she realised labels are bullshit and he’s a liar and Claudio’s a liar and she’s sorry and she’ll stick by you like you stuck by her.

And suddenly you find your words. Because she’s never been unclean and screw those who say so, even your favourite cousin. Screw labels and purity and the levels men will go to pit women who cares for each other against themselves. So she wears black and you wear white but you both bleed red and blush pink and your bodies are one and the same, no matter if they’ve laid in one bed or laid in many.

You forgive each other that day, for resentment that is not your own, for the roles that have been pushed upon you, for the moments you embraced them.

You forgive each other as easily as breathing, because truly, there’s nothing to forgive. And weeks later, when a gullible boy with sad eyes sits beside you on the same bed, you can forgive him too. Because you don’t want to waste energy hating him, when you can spend it loving her.


End file.
